


Nine Lives

by MaskedMew



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cutting, Heavy Angst, Implied Suicide Attempts, M/M, Suffering, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedMew/pseuds/MaskedMew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't feel sorry for the suicidal cats, they gotta kill themselves nine times to get it right," that's what they told him. But he couldn't stop his heart from beating fast in terror every time he got a phone call. They couldn't prevent the nightmares and constant waiting. "I love you," was all he knew how to say, but he knew one day that 'I love you' wouldn't be enough.</p>
<p>Don't read this if you are triggered by suicide or cutting.</p>
<p>(That means you, Jason.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Lives

**** "I'm really worried about Kenma, I've tried calling him several times and he's not picking up," Hinata confessed to Kageyama, whom had previously asked him why he looked so fidgety. "I'm just afraid he'll do something again..." he murmured when Kageyama didn't budge.

"I know he's your friend, but we're both aware he skips practice a lot," Kageyama said, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

"But last night he was really excited. He was telling me how excited he was to see me again, and how anxious he was to see how good I've gotten," said Hinata dreamily. Kageyama rolled his eyes, saying dismissively,

"He's not on our team. We don't need to worry about him." Hinata frowned, but allowed Kageyama to push him onto the court. His heart sank, seeing the other side of the court void of his favorite opponent.  _ The practice match must go on,  _ he thought. He did a stretch, and tried to focus his thoughts on nothing but Volleyball. It must’ve worked, because they played well. They won the game, but Hinata felt as though he'd been cheated of a proper victory.  _ Damn it Kenma, _ he thought. The boys had been permitted 10 minutes break to cool off before the next match. Hinata was on the steps, watching it rain from the protected balcony. Kenma had told him once how much he loved rain, and how when the rain came pouring down he'd light a candle and write poems. He'd promised to share one with Hinata but had never gotten around to it. Maybe it was because Hinata didn’t really show an interest in literature and poetry. 

Hinata took out his cellphone, and attempting to call Kenma again. Seconds after he'd been given the voicemail tone, Kenma called him back. "Kenma, why aren't you at practice?" Hinata asked. His heartbeat sped up when he heard that Kenma was crying. Something was wrong.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm s-"

Hinata interrupted, voice shaking, "Wh-What's going on?" A lump lodged itself in his throat as Kenma continued to cry.

"I'm going to the emergency room," he cried, "They're going to send me back Shoyou they're going to send me back," Kenma sobbed. Hinata didn't know what to say, so he spluttered, hoping words would come to him. They didn't, and he started to cry.  _ How bad is it this time? What has he done? _

"I love you," he choked. It was too late. Kenma had hung up. Hinata collapsed onto the steps, curling up into a ball. "Dammit," he shouted. “Dammit,” he murmured.

"Hinata!" a voice barked from behind the door. "We're about to..." Kageyama's voice trailed off when he saw Hinata curled up. He froze up, unsure of what to do. He glanced around, hoping a teammate would show up and save the day, but it was looking like he'd have to deal with this himself. "Hinata?" he asked nervously. Hinata didn't move, and showed no signs of even knowing Kageyama was behind him. "Hinata," he repeated sharply, "What is going on?" The words felt weird coming from his mouth, and he wished Suga or another player would come deal with this. Hinata glanced up. His chocolate brown eyes were red rimmed and full of tears, and the salty droplets streaked his face. He opened his mouth as though he was going to answer, but no words came out. Kageyama backed away, "Do I need to, uh,  g-get the coach, do you need t-to go home?" Hinata took in a deep, shaky breath.

"I'll play," he said softly. He rubbed the tears from his face.

"Will you be stable enough to?" Kageyama asked.

"I'll be fine," Hinata replied curtly, standing up and walking inside. Kageyama looked at him in shock.  _ Had Hinata just blown him off? _ He followed Hinata into the gym, watching the small boy stumble a little as he tried to pull of a facade of Being Okay. His eyes were watery but there was a smile on his face as he started chatting with Suga. Kageyama felt himself subconsciously start to worry for him. How often had he done this? He appeared to be fine on the outside, but he'd literally been sobbing on the steps minutes ago. No one questioned it, and went about their pre-game preparations.

Kageyama knew from Hinata's first spike that this was going to be a rough match. He also knew that Hinata would have gotten past the first block had he tried, but whatever made him cry had thrown him off his game. He hoped this wouldn’t turn into an ongoing thing.

 

They lost that time.

 

Practice was coming to end, and it was still pouring. It made Kageyama thankful that they were taking the bus home. The whole team walked out together to get onto the bus. He hiked his jacket up over his head to prevent the wet from getting to his hair. His delay caused him to be one of the last few on. Glancing around quickly, he realized there were two spots to sit. He could’ve sat by himself, Hinata was alone(which seemed wrong in itself) and decided against his better judgement to sit down next to him. Dropping his backpack to the floor he said,  “Hinata. Tell me what’s going on. You played awfully. I know something is going on behind the scenes.”

Hinata smile twitched, still staring out the window, he insisted he was fine, but composure was cracking, and he started to shake. “Kageyama, I know you don’t want to be here. It’s not too late for you to sit by yourself,” he said cooly. Blue eyes travelled to the empty seats across the aisle. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what is bothering you,” Kageyama decided aloud, wondering how long it’d be before he regretted that decision.

“What’s it to you?” Hinata snapped, tears starting to fall. No matter how hard he tried to keep himself together he just couldn’t. The bus went strangely silent. Everyone had to have heard his small outburst. He punched the side of the bus in defeat, and slumped in his seat, bangs shielding his face, body facing the window.

“Kageyama! What are you doing to him?” someone from the front shouted in Hinata’s defense.

“It’s not me!” Kageyama shouted back, annoyed that they assumed it was his fault. He stared at Hinata’s tiny quivering body apprehensively. 

“Then what is it?” someone yelled. That was the question of the hour. And Kageyama didn’t have any of the answers. He just stared at Hinata, and prayed that this would end and Hinata would go back to normal.

Hinata started murmuring, “It’s not the first time. And god, it’s not going to be the last time is it? Dammit Kenma, dammit…” Kageyama watched and listened, morbid curiosity growing in his stomach. “I can’t imagine you dead. I don’t want to think about never being able to see you again. Yet you keep doing this. You test death Kenma. You test me. Is that what this is?” Hinata asked, eyes moving to the ceiling, “Are you testing my strength? My love for you? You act like you want me to go. Is that what you want?” He stopped talking, trying to steady his breathing. Then he continued, “Sometimes I hate you for it. Sometimes I wish you’d get what you wanted, and then it makes it worse, it makes it so much worse, but I don’t know which are my real emotions and which aren’t. Do I mean it? I don’t know, I don’t know. Dammit…” Hinata trailed off, looking wildly around, as though he’d suddenly woken up. He dried his tears with his jacket sleeve before staring at Kageyama in dismay. “I-um, I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that and I wasn’t supposed to say any of that.” 

“Why don’t you speak to anyone about this?” Kageyama asked after a long silence.

“Kenma’s my only friend. I guess I just don’t talk to anyone else,” Hinata confessed.

“You don’t consider me a friend?” Kageyama said, finding himself more disappointed and upset than he’d like to admit. He made sure not to show his distress.

“Well, you hate me 90% of the time and the only reason I follow you around is because the alternative is being alone,” Hinata said. He was pulling at the edge of his jacket. One of his healthier nervous habits.

“I don’t hate you,” Kageyama said, hoping he sounded sincere.

“You had to think about it,” Hinata responded, “Anyways, it’s fine. I’m fine with the way our relationship is.” He didn’t seem fine.

“But don’t you need someone to, uh, you know,  _ talk to _ ?” Kageyama asked, “I know I’m not much good at carrying conversation but...”

“I’m fine Kageyama,” he said, forcing a laugh. “I’ve got the whole team behind me anyways. They don’t need to know all the little details,” Hinata replied, still attempting to sound cheerful. “No one does.” Kageyama stayed silent, listening to the soft whispers of his teammates. Were they as worried as he? Did they have any idea? He couldn’t belive that of all the things he’d taken careful note of, he’d never noted  _ this _ . In fact, he’d only seen Hinata like this once before, except then he’d held himself together better. It was a month ago. He had gotten a message on his phone during break and came back into the gym a little shaky, but still managed to play decently. It was as though volleyball was a coping mechanism. A distraction from reality.  _ Is that how it is for you?  _ Kageyama thought,  _ You don’t play to win, you play to keep playing. You need this, don’t you?  _

“Got me on your mind Kageyama?” Hinata asked, smiling, “You’ve been staring at me for over a minute.”

“No you dumbass,” Kageyama lied, “I was just thinking about, uh, what we’re having for dinner?” Yeah, that was just about the least smooth lie he’d ever told, and Hinata saw right through it.

“I told you not to worry, and what are you doing?” Hinata said, “Sheesh. Give me another hour or two.”

...

The fifth time Kenma tried to kill himself Hinata only cried for five minutes, and the terror left his heart after fifteen minutes. The sixth time Hinata sighed, and threw his phone to the ground, leaving it resting atop his jacket. He had other things to deal with. The seventh time Hinata walked in on Kenma cutting himself up after a game, blood was dripping down his thighs, and covering the sink. “Kenma, what are you doing?” he asked, voice trembling as his heart picked its pace. 

“I’m awfully sorry,” Kenma said, and that was all. The coach took him away, and they suggested that he quit the team. He refused. Nightmares plagued Hinata’s sleep for weeks afterwards. Even the thought of blood made him uncomfortable and nauseous.

The eighth time he blew up Hinata’s phone at 2am, sending him a message for each mark he made on his skin. The pictures made Hinata sick, but he didn’t know how to respond. He got his mother, sobbing over the bloody images that woke him up. Shortly after this episode Kenma was forced from the team in an attempt to direct his focusses on getting better.

Kenma’s last death was upon the dawn of their second year. Claws met bark as the teen climbed higher and higher until he reached a place he knew that landing on four paws couldn’t save him. His eyes narrowed in a ruthless anticipation. He knew well that you only get nine lives. Despite the facts, he let go.

...

“He’s gone? Like, for real?” Hinata asked, holding his cellphone close against his ear, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo replied softly. Hinata didn’t want to believe it, shouting into the receiver,

“Let me talk to his mother or something, please, anyone-”

“Not right now,” Kuroo said firmly, “She just needs to be comforted by her family right now.” He sniffled a little, whispering, “Do you know how much he loved you?”

“Did he know how much I loved him?” Hinata responded sharply. 

“I’ll talk to you later, when I know more,” Kuroo said, voice cracking, “Good-bye.”

Hinata wanted to beg him to stay, but he just murmured, “Yeah, bye.” The line went dead. Hinata felt numb. He sat down in the grass, searching for a distraction in the tiny life. He found none. He twirled a longish blade between his index finger and thumb, thinking of everything that could have been. Some people just don’t get better, do they? He contemplated getting up and just walking home, but decided to stay a little longer so he could let people know. Would they even care? He laid back in defeat, grass tickling his neck, but it wasn’t irritating enough to make him move. He watched clouds move past. Why did it have to be such a beautiful day? He found himself wishing that the world would stop, if not for him, for Kenma. It didn’t seem fair.

“What are you doing?” It was Kageyama, “You? Laying around on a day like this?”

“Kenma’s dead,” Hinata said calmly. The words sounded echoey when he said them. His vision blurred, and he felt the relief of tears dripping down his face. Kageyama stood still, watching silently with his heart in his throat. “I guess it’s what he wanted,” Hinata whispered, sitting up. He started to sob, and Kageyama continued to stand awkwardly with no idea of what he should say. Going against his better judgement, he sat down beside Hinata, and let the smaller boy fall into his lap and sob on his shoulder. It felt odd, and now his jacket was soaked, but he hoped it made Hinata feel at least a little better.

“Hinata,” he murmured, “I-I’m sorry. I know you loved him.” 

“Everyone told me this was going to happen,” Hinata sobbed, “He would get what he wanted and break my heart. But I didn’t listen! I really thought...I thought he could get better Kageyama. He was doing so well. He went without an episode for almost a month.”

“I’m so sorry Hinata,” Kageyama repeated, rubbing his hand up and down Hinata’s shoulder, trying to calm him and stop his shaking but failing miserably.

“I should’ve been checking up on him more,” Hinata cried, “I should’ve visited him more, he was probably lonely. I was such a shitty friend, and-”

“It’s not your fault you tried to live while he was dying,” Kageyama interrupted, “He was selfish, and didn’t think of you once. Had he been thinking of you, do think he would’ve done what he did?” Hinata froze, staring at Kageyama in surprise.

“How dare you call him selfish!” Hinata screamed, jolting back as though he’d been burnt. “Damn you you heartless monster!”

“I’m not heartless, it’s true! He was selfish! He sucked the life out of you without even thinking twice,” Kageyama shouted back.

“I thought you were beginning to understand,” Hinata murmured, looking down despondently at the grass. 

“I do understand,” Kageyama protested, “You just don’t want to believe what I’m saying.” Hinata sighed, wiping the tears from his face and rubbing his eyes until his vision was clear again. He sniffled, and tried to steady his breathing. Kageyama watched him, waiting patiently. Hinata cleared his throat, staring at the ground.

“Why do you think he wanted to die so bad?” he asked in a small voice, “His life wasn’t bad.”

“You can’t see everything going on inside,” Kageyama replied. Hinata grabbed his hand desperately.

“Why not?” he asked, “Why not?” He tried to stop more tears from forming; they were taking a lot out of him, but failed. He was truly exhausted. 

By now the team had started to gather around. The first years were looking at him in terror and shock, and one ran off to find the now third years. Hinata made the mental note that he wished Suga were still here. Kageyama was thinking the same, but attempted to comfort him none the less. Hinata’s anger melted away as Kageyama’s wide eyes met his own. The dark haired boy lifted up a bandaged finger and started to wipe away Hinata’s tears. His crying lessened, and laid limp in Kageyama’s grasp. They stayed like that for a little while, until Hinata’s crying ceased. “You should probably head home,” said Kageyama softly, “You’re going to need some time to heal.” Hinata nodded, moving slowly. 

“Bye guys,” he said, voice shaking as he stood up, “See you later?” He made his way off in the direction of his house. Kageyama slipped his tear soaked jacket completely off, setting it in the grass beside him, gaze travelling over each of the first years that were in a circle around him. He gave them a look that sent them running off for the gym, and then he himself got up and headed inside. 

...

_ I hope you’re feeling better. Missed you at school today.  _ (Tuesday)

_ When are you coming back?  _ (Wednesday)

_ I miss you  _ (Thursday)

_ How are you?  _ (Friday)

_ Please respond.  _ (Saturday)

_ Are you going to be at school tomorrow?  _ (Sunday)

_ The first years keep asking me about our “super quick”. It’s kind of funny. They’re begging me to show them but I keep telling them I need you to do it. Are you going to play when you get back?  _ (Monday)

_ I let a first year set in our practice match today. He’s pretty good I guess. I just didn’t feel like playing without you there. Are you feeling well? Please respond.  _ (Tuesday)

_ Talk to me. Please.  _ (Wednesday)

The messages from Kageyama were really starting to pile up, but Hinata didn’t have the answers to his questions yet. He was spending his days in a dreary silence, waiting for himself to feel okay again. He decided on Thursday that he wasn’t going to feel better any time soon and needed a distraction, so he went to school. He forced Kageyama to keep his distance, and then ran home before practice started. He fell onto his bed, crying.  _ Everything feels wrong when somebody’s dead. _

The next morning came fast. Hinata woke to rays of sunshine irritating his eyes, and he sat up. The lack of rain felt in a way like a relief, despite how nicely it set the mood for depression. He peered through the blinds at the rising sun. He felt like going for a run today. Changing silently, he threw his pajamas to the floor and vowed to come back for them later. He slipped through the back door, and threw himself onto the sidewalk, letting the morning chill wake him up. His heart pumped hard in his chest. This was practically the most he’d moved all week. He felt alive again. By the time he got home, his lungs were screaming to stop and he was dripping with sweat. He slipped off his jacket, using it to wipe his sweat away. He tiptoed to his room so no one would know where he’d gone, and grabbed his school uniform. Then he went to the bathroom to take a cold shower. They always reminded him of camp. He caught himself humming under his breath, a pleasant melody he didn’t know the name of.  _ Alive again _ , he thought to himself,  _ I feel alive again. _

The school day crawled on as Hinata waited for practice, an odd mix of eager anticipation and terror in twisting in his stomach. He was afraid what people would think, he was afraid of all of the, “How do you do?s” he would get and most of all he was afraid that a first year had taken his place. He’d read Kageyama’s texts a thousand times, and the thought of being replaced terrified him. He wanted to play. He had started to miss the buzz of the gym, the exhilaration of getting a spike in, flying for a few seconds. That’s definitely what he missed most. He liked the feeling of wings on his back. 

He was jolted back to reality when Kageyama pinched him. He glared at him but realized the reason a millisecond later. The teacher had called on him. His classmates were laughing now. She just brushed it off(perhaps out of pity), and called on someone else. Thank god.

He raced Kageyama to practice. It felt good to be back at it, even though Kageyama beat him there. “No mercy!” Hinata exclaimed, glancing over at Kageyama’s smirking face. The taller boy shrugged, responding,

“I can’t help that you’ve been slacking. You’ll never catch up to me now.”

“We’ll see about that,” Hinata replied, walking into the gym. The first years were already there. Hinata realized in disdain that they were all taller than him. One of them dropped a ball, and suddenly they were surrounding him, saying their hellos and introducing themselves. Then one of them brought up the quick. Hinata felt a hand touch his shoulder. He glanced up. Kageyama was hovering over him.

“You feel up to doing it today?” he asked.

“I’ll try,” Hinata responded, newfound determination in his voice, “Let’s impress these kids.” One of the taller ones made a comment about  _ “Why are you calling us kids if you’re half our height?  _ but Hinata chose to ignore them. He got out onto the court, and lined himself up. The ball was tossed to Kageyama, and instinct took over. Within seconds he was in the air, the ball about to collide with his palm. Everything was moving in slow motion. He watched the face of the first year who’d been dared to receive his quick. Then the ball was gone, and he fell to the ground. He laughed as his body smacked against the floor, “I guess I forgot how to land,” he said, smiling despite the pain. Kageyama rolled his eyes. They both glanced across the court, where the first year was looking in astonishment at the red mark on his arm where he’d managed to touch the ball.

“That. Was. Amazing,” the boy exclaimed, “I’ll receive it correctly next time.”

“Challenge accepted,” Hinata responded, standing up and dusting himself off. The coach walked in.

“Hinata!” he shouted. Hinata froze, turning slowly to face him.

“Yes-?”

“Welcome back!” he exclaimed, “Since you’re already playing, let’s get a team on each side.” The members ran to get different colored jerseys. Kageyama stopped Hinata, saying,

“We’re all glad to have you back. So let’s go kick some ass.” Hinata nodded, face lighting up.

“I’m glad to be back too,” he responded. 

...

_ You only get nine lives, why waste them? _


End file.
